Chapter Text
Kagome’s POV
Weekend parties always feel the same to me. Too crowded, too close, a collision of voices crashing into one another without pause. It’s not that I hate the atmosphere. Quite the opposite. I actually enjoy the bustle, the random chatter, and the music you don’t really have to listen to. It’s just that there are days when I arrive with my battery at half-capacity, and tonight is one of them. I know it’s my own responsibility, my mood isn’t anyone else’s business. Still, a prickle of annoyance lingers. Small but persistent, like a splinter lodged in the back of my mind.
The moment the front door swings open, the music ambushes us. The bass thumps against my chest, forcing my breath to sync with its rhythm. Dim lights hang in the corners, blurring the faces of the crowd. Some are drenched in sweat, some are laughing too loud, and others have already lost their center of gravity. Plastic cups filled with neon-colored drinks change hands rapidly—some nearly spilling, others already bone-dry. I stop just past the threshold, my feet hesitating for a fraction of a second as I instinctively take a deep breath.
"Remember, just for a bit," I mutter, mostly as a reminder to myself.
Inuyasha shoots me a sidelong glance. His brow arches and his mouth quirks into that half-lazy smirk I know all too well. "Keh. You always say that, then you're the last one to leave."
"And I’m always right," I snap back. He shuts his mouth, though his ears probably would have twitched if they weren't hidden.
Kouga doesn't even wait for us. He saunters in like he owns the place, his eyes scanning the crowd with that predatory sharp-sightedness. "If it’s this crowded, don't just stand there like a statue, Kagome. Stick to the edge with me," he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me slightly to the right, effectively cutting Inuyasha off.
"Hey! Watch it, you scrawny wolf!" Inuyasha barks, but he follows close behind, leaning his shoulder against the wall while I stand between them.
We gravitate toward the back porch door, a position we always seem to take without thinking. I’m in the middle. Inuyasha is on the left, arms crossed, shoulder leaning slightly against the wall. Kouga is on the right, leaning forward, his gaze active even though his posture looks relaxed. The formation assembles itself. It was never planned. It was never discussed. We just stop there, as if that space was tailor-made for us.
I greet a few familiar faces. A brief nod. A thin smile. The bare minimum. I don't need to force small talk, the music swallows the awkward gaps that usually arise. I don't really listen as Inuyasha grumbles a few things about the party earlier, all I catch is that it’s a standard Engineering department bash. Since that’s his major, it makes sense why he’s here. Kouga, of course, says yes to any party, and I’m just the one dragged along in their wake.
Out of the crowd, a guy approaches. His stride is casual, radiating a misplaced confidence that he won't be rejected. His grin is wide—too wide—and his eyes are locked onto me. I catch his movement before he even reaches us.
"Hey," he says, leaning in close. "You're Kagome, right? From the archery club?"
Before I can even open my mouth, Kouga steps directly into the guy's personal space. His smile is sharp, almost feral. "She's busy. Find someone else to bother."
The guy blinks, his confidence evaporating as he looks at Kouga, then at Inuyasha—who is now glaring like he’s ready to start a brawl. He mumbles an excuse and vanishes back into the crowd.
I turn to Kouga, rubbing my temples. "Kouga! Do you even realize what you just did?"
He looks at me, genuinely confused, his brow furrowed. "What? I talked to him."
His tone is flat. Not defensive, not acting cool. It’s a sincere answer because, to him, there was nothing wrong with it. I’m not surprised. I’ve been hearing this for years, ever since high school.
"You practically threatened him!"
"Keh," Inuyasha interjects with a short, mocking laugh. "The wolf is right for once. That guy was a creep."
I sigh softly and massage my forehead, my fingers pressing into my temples to unravel the knot of frustration that never quite explodes. "I can answer for myself, you know. I’m not a porcelain doll."
"I know," Kouga shrugs. "Just a reflex."
There it is again. Reflex. As if everything happens on autopilot.
I swallow my follow-up comment. Experience has taught me one thing: pulling this thread too far only leads to the same conclusion. They don’t feel like they’re doing anything special. And because of that, I’ve grown used to treating it as normal.
Around us, the current of people keeps moving. Some glance our way before returning to their huddles. Others linger a second too long, silently assessing our arrangement. I catch whispers that aren't even trying to be hushed.
"That's Higurashi, isn't it?"
"Those two are definitely with her."
"Those guys look fierce."
I don't react. Inuyasha clearly hears them but chooses silence, evidenced only by the slight hardening of his jaw. Kouga, meanwhile, wears a faint smirk—the kind of expression people mistake for friendliness when it’s actually heightened alertness.
At campus, our dynamics were established long ago. We aren't the type to cause a scene. There’s no open drama, no status wars. But our presence creates a pattern that’s easy to recognize. If I sit at a table, the chairs to my left and right rarely stay empty for long. If I stand, they stand. If I move, their steps automatically adjust. Many assume we're dating. Some guess it’s something more complicated. The rest just give up and label us themselves. It’s insane, do they think we’re in some kind of polyandrous relationship or something?
I am a human in an environment that isn't entirely human. I know that. I grew up with a spiritual awareness sharp enough to sense the shift in energies around me, but I’m not interested in dissecting them one by one. I choose a normal life: college, organizations, archery club, deadlines, and a teenage life as free as possible. Dating? Impossible, thanks to these two crazy yokai.
Inuyasha and Kouga live in a different world, yet they walk the same path as I do. A world with different rules. Different instincts. A way of reacting that is often faster than logic. I rarely associate that with myself. All I know is they’ve never done anything weird to me other than being annoying. So, I don’t mind their non-human identities.
I startle slightly when Inuyasha leans in to hand me a cold bottle of water. His fingers brush my wrist for a fraction of a second. The contact is brief, but too consistent to be a coincidence. I sip the water without comment.
Kouga shifts just a fraction of an inch closer as a group of guys stumbles too near. He doesn't shove them or act overtly hostile. He simply recalibrates his stance, squaring his shoulders to close the gap. It’s subtle, yet the effect is immediate. The strangers instinctively veer off, taking the long way around as if repelled by an invisible force field. I only realize the perimeter he’s built after the threat has already vanished.
"It’s exactly like it is on campus," I murmur, more to myself than to them.
"Huh? What’s like campus?" Inuyasha barks, his ears practically twitching under his hood as he leans in, always way too loud for the distance between us.
"Everything. Whenever the three of us are together, people just scatter. Everyone gives us this weird amount of space."
Inuyasha snorts, crossing his arms over his chest with a dismissive huff. "Keh. Maybe our faces are just annoying enough to keep the idiots away."
Kouga lets out a dry, cocky chuckle, his eyes never leaving the crowd. "Or maybe they’re just smart enough to know when they’re outmatched."
"Oh, I know exactly what it is," Inuyasha growls, baring his teeth slightly as he glares at Kouga. "It’s this Flat-Nosed Wolf’s ugly mug. It’s enough to ruin anyone’s appetite."
"Take a look in a mirror, you pathetic Mutt," Kouga snaps back, his hand instinctively resting on his hip. "Your face looks like a permanent scowl looking for a fight."
I stare ahead. The music is still thumping. The lights are still low. But the space around us feels static. No one truly breaks into our circle. No one dares to stand too close for long. I should be annoyed. It’s strange, being this guarded. But I feel the opposite. A sense of security emerges unbidden. A feeling so familiar because it’s been there for so long. And perhaps, without realizing it, that’s why every time I show up to a place like this in a bad mood, I still end up standing right between them.
Because since the start of my college life, this has been the shape of our togetherness. No serious talks. No verbal agreements. No labels pinned to us. Everything runs on a loop of reflexes until it feels like second nature.
Sometimes it even feels boring. Not because of them, but because coming to a party like this loses its purpose. I can stand for hours without truly mingling. My conversations are restricted to a circle of girls. A quick laugh, an exchange of trivial stories. The moment a guy gets too close, the space around me constricts again. These two crazy yokai only truly let me go when I’m standing among girls. Even then, I’m still within their line of sight.
I once joked about this to Sango. She laughed, saying I was being guarded like an antique. I agreed at the time, half-joking myself. I never thought much of it. The result is clear enough: I’m still single. And yes, perfectly virgin. Not because I’m conservative or uninterested, but because every potential situation gets cut short halfway.
Naturally, weird rumors started flying. I’m guarded by two yokai like an impenetrable wall of bodyguards. Inuyasha, the star boxer, and Kouga, the delinquent biker, make anyone wither before they can even approach me. No, I’m not proud or happy about it at all. I’d be much more grateful if these two would just stay away from me for any reason. They should get girlfriends so they have something to do other than pester me.
Inuyasha glances toward the backyard pool. A few people are laughing loudly at the edge, the water rippling from the splashes. He checks the time on his phone. "If you're done being miserable, let's get out of here," Inuyasha says suddenly.
"I didn't say I was miserable," I counter.
"You've been making that 'I hate everyone' face for twenty minutes," he retorts.
"I have not!"
"Keh. I've known you long enough to know when you're done, Kagome."
Kouga smirks, leaning in. "He’s right for once. Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride that’ll actually get you home before morning, unlike this slow mutt’s bike."
"Shut up, Wolf-boy! My bike is faster than that scrap metal you ride!"
"Wanna bet?"
"Enough!" I snap, but I’m already pulling on Inuyasha’s red sleeve. "Fine. Let's go home. My feet are killing me."
Seeing this stubborn silver-haired guy actually offer to leave early is a miracle I shouldn't question. It’s a rare lapse in his ego, and I’m not about to let the opportunity slip away.
"Let’s just go home," I say again, tugging at his sleeve.
"What? We just got here!" Inuyasha protests. His voice is a mix of his usual lazy drawl and that annoying, expectant tone he gets when he wants to be difficult. "Don't be so weak, Kagome."
"My feet hurt, Inuyasha. Deal with it."
Kouga doesn't miss a beat. He nods, moving toward the exit almost too fast, as if he’s been waiting for an excuse to get me away from the crowd. "Right. No point in staying if you're uncomfortable. Let's get moving."
Inuyasha clicks his tongue loudly, a harsh sound of pure irritation. "Unbelievable. We've been here for what, a minute? Keh. I should’ve known better than to offer."
I look up at him, blinking with the most innocent expression I can muster. I meet his gaze head-on—those golden eyes, perpetually cynical and narrowed in a scowl, are locked onto mine. "If you're having so much fun, Inuyasha, feel free to stay," I say sweetly, "I’m sure you can find your own way back."
He stiffens, his jaw tightening as he realizes I’m calling his bluff. He looks like he wants to bark another insult, but instead, he just grumbles something unintelligible under his breath and reaches for his helmet. I mean it, too—it’s not a threat or a pout. I know the lives of these two yokai are the polar opposite of mine. They’re wild in the nightlife scene. Inuyasha loves clubbing, parties, smoking, all of it. Kouga is the same, just add illegal street racing to the mix. If they get bored of the clubs, they prowl the streets at night.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve woken up to a notification on my phone, only to find a blurry photo of a hospital room or a miserably captioned text about some minor accident. Usually, it’s Kouga in the ER after a bike wreck, or Inuyasha sitting on a gurney looking like he wants to bite the nurses.
Am I sad? Honestly, not really. I’ve lived with them long enough to know their biology is basically a cheat code. They heal faster without medicine than most people do with a full surgical team. If they’re conscious enough to text, they’re fine. Disappointed? Well, I don't really have the right to be. We’re in college now. They’re adults, or at least they’re supposed to be. As long as they stay away from the hard stuff—no drugs, no sleazy drama with girls—I can tolerate their specific brand of testosterone-fueled insanity.
They’ve been breaking rules since the day they hit puberty, so trying to stop them is like trying to hold back a landslide with a paper umbrella. It’s just who they are. Wild, loud, and constantly looking for a way to prove they’re the strongest thing in the room.
But even if I’m not disappointed in the way a teacher would be, there’s this nagging weight in my chest every time I see them covered in grime and bandages. It’s not about the rules they broke, it’s about the fact that they feel the need to keep going back to those dark, noisy corners of the world. It’s like they’re trying to outrun something, and no matter how much I pull them into the light—into my world of study groups and normal life—there’s a part of them that still craves the dirt. I see them standing behind me on campus, playing the part of the perfect guardians, but I know their knuckles are bruised and their heads are full of neon lights and smoke.
I just wish, just for once, they’d realize they don’t have to bleed to prove they’re still here.
Inuyasha grabs his helmet from a table near the door. Kouga has already stepped outside. We don’t say goodbye to anyone. People are too busy in their own worlds to notice us leaving, even if we were the topic of their whispers moments ago. The night air hits my skin the second we step out. Colder and cleaner, I take a long breath without realizing it. My shoulders drop slowly, as if only now I’m allowed to truly relax.
"Better out here," I murmur with relief.
"Told you," Kouga says, tightening his helmet strap.
"Get on, Kagome," Inuyasha says, kicking his bike to life.
I climb on behind him, gripping his jacket. It’s familiar. It’s safe. Kouga speeds up beside us, and the two of them continue their silent competition all the way back to the dorms. No conversation. No awkward silence. The sound of the engines is enough company for the ride home. I don’t think about the party or the guys I didn't meet. I just think about how, despite the headaches they give me, I’m always the safest girl on campus.
***
Monday mornings always have their own rhythm. The campus hasn't fully woken up, but it isn't exactly quiet either. The mobile coffee vendors are just opening. The security guard yawns without covering his mouth. Some students walk briskly with faces of resignation; the rest drag their feet while staring at their phones.
I arrive earlier than usual. My backpack feels heavy. Not just because of the laptop, but because my brain hasn't fully powered on. I got back to the dorm quite late, even though I only stayed at the party for a moment. I’d managed a drink or two of those bright liquids before Inuyasha swapped them for water. My alcohol tolerance is low, so this heavy-headed feeling isn't a mystery. As I pass through the gates, I instinctively slow my pace.
And, of course. There they were.
Inuyasha was leaning against the flamboyant tree near the small garden, looking for all the world like he owned the entire block. His red jacket was half-zipped, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and his face wore that sleepy-yet-annoying expression that usually meant he’d been waiting far too long. Kouga sat perched on the garden ledge, one leg hiked up, sipping a coffee while scrolling through his phone with a bored intensity.
They looked up at the exact same time. Synchronized. It was always like that.
“What are you two doing here?” I asked, approaching them.
Inuyasha shot a glance at his wrist—no watch, just a habit—then shrugged. “It’s this time of day, isn't it?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re gettin’,” he grunted.
“I didn't say we were meeting up,” I reminded him.
Kouga pocketed his phone and stood up, stretching like a predator waking from a nap. “Who said anything about a meeting?” he replied smoothly.
I let out a long, weary sigh. “You guys are so weird.”
“Tell us somethin’ we don’t know,” Inuyasha shot back, stickin’ his tongue out at me.
We started heading toward the main building. We hadn't even cleared five steps before Inuyasha’s hand shot out, snagging my backpack and swinging it over his own shoulder.
“Hey,” I protested instinctively, grabbing at the strap. “It’s heavy.”
“No, it’s not,” he muttered, yanking it higher.
“It has my laptop in it!”
“Keh. Exactly why I’m carrying it, Wench.”
I glared at him. “And where’s your gear? Don’t you have a bag?”
Inuyasha looked away. “It’s in the locker. I couldn't be bothered. Only have a couple of classes today anyway.”
Kouga let out a mocking cackle. “Don’t believe a word out of that trash-mouth, Kagome. He’s clearly planning to skip so he can go blow off steam at the Bone Eater.”
Instead of a verbal denial, Inuyasha swung a kick at Kouga’s shins. Kouga dodged it with a practiced, effortless leap. That was all it took to ignite their first shouting match of the morning. They brawled and bickered the entire way across the quad without missing a step. By now, my ears were practically immune to the noise. I just had to perfect my "I don't know these people" face for the benefit of the staring freshmen.
Inuyasha skipping class was nothing new. He was in the Engineering department because he had a knack for tearing machines apart and putting them back together—a typical Engineering temperament, really. I’d given up on lecturing him long ago, it was a waste of breath. He was too smart for his own good, usually managing to pass despite his "creative" attendance record, though even he had to buckle down when the lab reports started piling up.
Kouga, on the other hand, was in Sports Science. The only choice that made sense for a guy who couldn't sit still if his life depended on it. He was too restless to be caged in a lecture hall. On campus, he was a legend for his unauthorized parkour—leaping over garden barriers, scaling fences, and skipping entire flights of stairs in a single bound. His body was lean and athletic, built not by fancy gym routines, but by a lifetime of never stopping. Watching him vault over a railing and land as light as a feather was just another Tuesday for me. Faculty members would scold him, and security would just sigh in resignation. His energy was bottomless. Always ready to move, always ready to react.
That was a wolf yokai for you. Not that Inuyasha, the dog yokai, was any better.
The faculty corridors were starting to buzz. The rhythmic sound of footsteps and muffled chatter filled the air, but the volume always dipped whenever we passed.
"There they go again."
"The trio that never splits up."
"Seriously, do they ever go anywhere without her?"
I stared straight ahead, playing deaf. Inuyasha clicked his tongue, his expression set in a permanent scowl. Kouga just arched an eyebrow, looking like he took the whispers as a personal compliment. This pattern went back forever. From kindergarten to college, our lives were locked in sync. Every time I moved schools, those two familiar faces would pop up in my new classroom a few weeks later. There were no long discussions about it. No planning. It just happened, as if it were the most natural law of the universe.
In front of the lecture hall, a guy from another department waved at me. I recognized him from a group project. I gave him a polite nod, and he started to walk over. He hadn't even made it two steps before Kouga intercepted. He didn't do anything aggressive. He just casually drifted into the guy’s path, effectively cutting him off.
“Yo, bro,” Kouga said, his tone deceptively friendly. “Morning classes are in Building B, right? You’re heading the wrong way.”
The guy stopped, blinking. “Uh, yeah.”
“Better head out that way,” Kouga said, pointing toward the exit. “This hallway’s getting way too cramped.”
The guy hesitated, looked at Inuyasha’s murderous glare, and nodded quickly. “Oh. Right. Thanks.” He turned around and vanished.
Kouga stepped back to my side as if nothing had happened. I gave him a sharp, cynical look. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” he asked instantly, his eyebrows shooting up in mock innocence.
“Gatekeeping,” I said, gesturing toward the guy’s retreating back. “Every time a guy tries to talk to me, you jump in first.”
Kouga turned halfway. “Huh? Are you serious?”
“Yes!”
He scratched the back of his neck, looking genuinely thoughtful for a split second—which meant nothing was actually going on in his head. “I just thought he was lost.”
“You knew exactly what he wanted.”
“Not necessarily!” he barked back. “Maybe he just needed to find the bathroom!”
Inuyasha let out a short, mocking bark of a laugh. “Yeah, right. Looking for the bathroom by staring at her face? Pull the other one.”
“Shut up!” Kouga snapped. “You’re just as bad.”
Inuyasha snorted. “I am not.”
“You’re carrying her bag without even asking!”
“That’s different!”
“How is it different, you moron?”
“Because I know what’s in it!” Inuyasha jabbed a thumb toward my face. “Look at her, she’s got hangover written all over her. She doesn't have the strength to carry a laptop. She’d probably drop it and cry.”
I huffed. “This isn't a contest to see who can be the most overbearing.”
Inuyasha turned on me. “I’m helping you and this is the thanks I get, Wench?!”
“I said you’re being dramatic.”
Inuyasha gritted his teeth. “Watch your mouth, Kagome! The only one being dramatic here is this Flat-Nosed Wolf!”
“Neither of you are normal,” I muttered.
Kouga held up his hands. “Fine, fine. Next time, I’ll stay out of it.”
“Promise?” I asked skeptically.
“Promise,” he said. Two seconds later, a guy walked a little too close to me, and Kouga instinctively stepped halfway in front of me again. I gave him a deadpan stare that must have chilled his spine because he immediately looked back at me.
“Reflex,” he said quickly.
Inuyasha snorted. “Idiot.”
“Mirror, Mutt!” Kouga shot back.
The faculty corridor was a narrow gauntlet of students, and we were cutting through it like a slow-moving riot. I could feel the eyes on us—the usual mix of awe, confusion, and "there-they-go-again" sighs.
"I'm telling you, Kouga, back off," Inuyasha growled, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that usually precedes someone getting their head put through a wall. He shifted the weight of my laptop bag on his shoulder like he was adjusting a weapon, his knuckles white against the strap. "I don't need a mangy wolf sniffing around every time someone tries to talk to her."
Kouga didn't even give him the satisfaction of a glance. He was too busy performing a casual, calculated side-step to block a guy who was clearly aiming to catch my eye from across the hall. "And I don't need a half-wit mutt letting every creep on campus get within breathing distance," Kouga countered, his voice dripping with that effortless arrogance. "You’re too slow to notice anything until it’s already happened. You’re all bark and no brains."
"I noticed you being a goddamn nuisance!" Inuyasha snapped, his golden eyes flashing with a predatory heat. "That guy was just some brat from the Lit department asking for a syllabus. He wasn't doing anything!"
"He was looking at her like she was a steak dinner, you moron," Kouga shot back, flashing a sharp, jagged grin that was anything but friendly. "I saved her the trouble of rejecting him. You should be thanking me for keeping the trash away from the sidewalk."
I rubbed my temples, the familiar throb of a headache starting to pulse behind my eyes. This was my life. Every day was a tug-of-war where I was the rope. "Can both of you just stop? For five minutes? I’m right here. I have ears. I have a voice. I’m perfectly capable of telling a Literature student to get lost if I want to."
"Yeah, and you're too damn nice for your own good," Inuyasha grunted, finally turning that heavy, suffocating scowl toward me. His eyes softened for a split second before the stubbornness took over again. "You’d let them talk your ear off for an hour just to be polite. Keh. That’s why you’re stuck with a bag this heavy. You probably said 'yes' to three different people asking for favors today without even thinking about how beat you look."
He wasn't entirely wrong, which only made it more annoying. He sees right through my polite mask because he’s spent his whole life watching me wear it. But the way he and Kouga were acting—like two feral dogs guarding a bone—was getting out of hand. They weren't just protecting me, they were trying to curate my entire world so that only they were allowed in the frame.
Inuyasha was especially bad today. I could smell the faint, lingering scent of smoke and cheap booze on his jacket, a tell-tale sign that he’d spent the night brooding in some shithole club. And now he was taking his restless energy out on anyone who breathed in my direction.
"I didn't, it’s just my laptop and a few textbooks."
"Liars go to hell, Kagome," he muttered, though he adjusted the strap so it wouldn't slip.
We climbed the stairs, bickering all the way, a sound that has basically become the soundtrack to my life. Inuyasha was taking them two at a time, impatient and restless as ever, while Kouga was practically vibrating with that frantic energy he gets whenever he’s trying to show off.
"Seriously, Kouga," I sighed, watching him narrowly miss a terrified freshman who looked like he’d just seen a predator in a tracksuit. "You’re going to give security a stroke. Stop with the parkour before you get us all banned from the building."
"Aww, are you worried about me, Kagome?" he teased, leaning into my space with a wink that would’ve worked on anyone else. "Don't be. My legs move way faster than their eyes can track anyway."
"Keh. Your brain is slower than a damn snail, though," Inuyasha barked, stomping up the stairs behind me like he was trying to crack the concrete. "One of these days you’re gonna trip and break that flat nose of yours, and I’m gonna be right there to laugh my ass off."
"In your dreams, Mutt!" Kouga leaped the final three steps and landed silently at the top, effectively blocking the hallway path. He looked at me, his expression momentarily dropping the act. "Look, Kagome. I’ll stay out of it. Next time some guy tries to approach you, I’ll stay ten feet back. Cross my heart."
I stopped on the top step, leveling him with my best stare—the one that usually makes Inuyasha flinch. "You mean it? No glaring? No 'accidental' tripping? No 'you're heading the wrong way' bullshit lies?"
"Promise," he said, holding up his hands like he was being arrested.
Half a second later, a tall guy from the basketball team rounded the corner, checking his watch and nearly brushing against my arm. Before Kouga’s brain could even register the word 'promise,' his body had already lurched. He didn't even think. He just slid into the space between us with terrifying speed, his shoulder acting as a solid buffer that forced the basketball player to swerve into the wall.
I stared at the back of Kouga’s head, my expression dead flat.
He froze. Slowly, he turned his head back to me, his face a mask of sheepish, pathetic realization.
"Reflex," he wheezed, the word coming out like a plea for mercy.
"You lasted exactly two seconds," I deadpanned.
Inuyasha let out a loud, mocking guffaw from behind me, nearly doubling over with a jagged, ugly laugh. "Two seconds! That’s a new record for the Wolf-boy! You’ve got the self-control of a goddamn hyperactive puppy!"
"Shut up! Like you're any better!" Kouga snapped, his face flushing a deep, angry red. "You've been gripping that bag strap like it's her hand for the last ten minutes! I can see your claws digging into the fabric from here!"
Inuyasha’s face went instantly red, matching his jacket perfectly. "I have not! I’m just making sure the damn laptop doesn't get damaged! It’s expensive, okay?! If you dropped it, you’d be too poor to pay her back!"
"Sure it is, Mutt. Sure it is. Keep telling yourself that."
"Die, you mangy wolf!"
I didn't even wait for them to finish. I’d had enough of the "Guard Dog vs. Wolf" show for one morning. I reached over and snatched my bag from Inuyasha’s shoulder—taking him completely by surprise—and marched toward my classroom without looking back.
"Kagome! Hey! Where are you—"
I could hear them scrambling after me, their bickering turning into a frantic "Wait, Kagome!" in perfect unison. Some things never changed. From the playground to the campus hallway, it was the same old cycle of chaos. As much as I complained, as much as their overprotectiveness made me want to scream, I knew that if the hallway ever truly went quiet, I’d be the one looking over my shoulder, wondering where my two idiots had gone.
***
By lunchtime, the campus cafeteria was a battlefield of clattering plastic trays, the heavy aroma of curry, and a deafening roar of student gossip. I sat across from Sango, our lunch sitting untouched between us. She wasn't even looking at her food. Her gaze was fixed on the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out toward the quad.
Outside, two figures were cutting through the crowd like a storm front. Inuyasha was in the lead, his stride brisk and impatient, hands shoved so deep into his red jacket pockets it looked like he was trying to tear the seams. Kouga followed a few paces behind, yawning with a laziness while white-knuckling a water bottle. They stopped near the bike racks, got into a brief, heated shoving match—likely over something as trivial as who parked where—and then vanished into the shadows of the gym.
Sango finally turned her gaze back to me, her expression unreadable.
"I’m going to be completely real with you, Kagome," she said quietly, her tone measured in a way that usually preceded a serious lecture. "I honestly can’t tell if this is some bizarre three-way situationship or if you’ve just hired the most aggressive, full-time security detail in campus history."
I was mid-sip of my iced tea and immediately started choking. The liquid went down the wrong pipe, sending me into a coughing fit that turned my face a vibrant, burning shade of red. "What—cough—what are you even saying?" I wheezed, pressing a napkin to my mouth. "You seriously need to filter your thoughts, Sango!"
Sango merely arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh, believe me, I’ve filtered plenty. That was the polite version."
"They're my best friends," I insisted, stabbing a piece of broccoli a bit too hard. "We grew up together. It’s legacy baggage."
"That’s exactly the problem," she countered, leaning her elbows on the table and lowering her voice. "I’ve seen best friends before, Kagome. But I’ve never seen two guys act like that. They don't just hang out with you, they patrol you. They know your schedule better than the registrar, they sense your mood before you even open your mouth, and they are always—without fail—within a two-meter radius."
"You’re exaggerating," I muttered, though my heart wasn't in the denial.
"Nope," she snapped back, her eyes flickering with the sharp intuition of a star athlete. "I’m a martial artist, remember? I’m sensitive to body language and spatial distance. Those two aren't just standing around. They’re marking a perimeter. They treat this cafeteria like it's a contested territory and you're the high-value asset."
I looked down, poking aimlessly at my rice. "They’re just protective. In their own loud, overbearing way."
"Protective of everyone?" Sango asked, leaning in.
"Of me," I whispered.
"Exactly. My point stands."
I sighed. Deep down, I’d known it was strange for a long time, but it had become a habit—a comfortable, noisy pattern I’d learned to live with rather than overthink. "We’ve been together forever, Sango. It’s just how we function."
"Kagome, forever isn't a valid excuse to let two apex predators act like your personal bodyguards. It's weirding out the rest of the student body."
Suddenly, the chair at the table directly behind us scraped harshly against the tile. I didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. I could feel the sudden spike in the air—that prickly, restless energy. Inuyasha had sat down, his back to mine. His shoulders were tense, and even through the thick fabric of his jacket, I could practically feel his temper rising. He was eavesdropping, he wasn't even trying to hide his annoyance. Kouga dropped into the seat beside him, letting out a loud, carefree laugh that echoed off the cafeteria walls.
"What is so funny, you two?" I barked over my shoulder, my patience thinning.
"Nothing, Kagome!" Kouga chirped, grinning broadly as he leaned back with his hands behind his head. "Don't mind us. We're just 'patrolling' the area. Carry on with your secret girl talk. We're invisible."
Inuyasha didn't turn around, but his voice came out in a low, muffled grunt that vibrated through the back of my chair. "Just eat your food, Wench. And tell Sango to mind her own goddamn business before I give her something real to analyze."
I turned back to Sango, my face still burning with a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. "See? Totally normal. Just a couple of idiots being idiots."
"Normal for you," Sango replied calmly, her gaze softening into something almost pitying. "But bizarre for the rest of the mortal world. You’re the only person I know who can sit in the eye of a hurricane and call it a breeze."
I went quiet, my spoon hovering inches from my mouth.
"Are you actually comfortable with it?" Sango asked, her voice dropping to a genuine whisper. "Doesn't it ever feel... too much? Like you're being suffocated by all that 'protection'?"
I thought about the morning bickering that sounded like a broken record, the way Inuyasha always had snatched my backpack as if it were his personal mission to carry my burdens, and the way Kouga had physically blocked the hallway without a second thought. I thought about the whispers that followed me through the corridors—the rumors that I was dating both of them, or that I was some kind of untouchable boss they served—and the undeniable fact that my dating life was basically a scorched-earth policy. No guy in their right mind would dare ask for my number with those two looming like gargoyles behind me.
But then, I thought about the flip side. I thought about the warmth of having them there, a constant presence that acted like a physical shield against the world. I thought about the way I never felt truly alone or unsafe, even in the middle of a crowded, chaotic campus where other girls had to worry about being catcalled or followed.
Most of all, I thought about the quiet nights. Those nights when the stress of an upcoming exam felt like it was crushing me, and I’d look out my window to see two silhouettes sitting on my porch steps. They wouldn’t say anything profound. They wouldn't even come inside. They’d just stay there in the cold, Inuyasha leaning against the railing and Kouga scrolling through his phone, simply because I’d mentioned I was nervous. They were like anchors in a storm I didn't even realize I was fighting. It was a heavy, suffocating kind of love, maybe. But it was the only kind I’d ever known, so the thought of it being gone felt like losing a limb.
I gave a small, resigned nod. "It’s a headache. A loud, constant, frustrating headache. But... it’s just how it is. I’m used to it. I think I'd be more scared if they weren't there."
"Well," she said, finally digging into her own meal. "That’s exactly what has the entire campus so confused. You've accepted it as your reality. You're the heart of the storm, Kagome. You just don't realize how much power you actually have over those two."
I offered a thin smile, but my chest felt a little full. Three people, always locked in the same orbit. And somewhere along the way, that togetherness had become too seamless and consistent to ever be called just a habit again. It was a bond that defied logic.
To be Continued